


Oh take me back to the start

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1240324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The missing moments between the end of season four and the beginning of season five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh take me back to the start

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of this fic I'm pretending that Jeff knew about Annie's new job.

The group circled around the charred remains of their old study table. Annie felt Jeff fall into place beside her, his fingers lightly brushing against hers. “To new beginnings,” she murmured, as she clasped her hand around his.

* * *

While Shirley and Britta attempted to talk Troy and Abed out of dousing the flames with their hoodies, Jeff kept one eye on Annie. He watched as she took out a handful of pens from her blazer pocket and threw them into the fire, before wiggling around on the spot in some sort of deranged happy dance. A smile tugged at Jeff’s mouth. Yeah. He’d made the right call.

* * *

 _Not exactly how I pictured the day ending_ , Annie thought to herself as Abed poured lighter fluid over four years worth of memories. None of them were in a very good place, but she still had a flicker of hope (there it was again) that maybe Jeff had the hero cape tucked away for safekeeping. “ _The choice to make is yours_ ,” Jeff had said, as they signed away their lives. But Annie remained defiant. “ _No_ ,” she’d countered. “ _It’s yours_.”

* * *

The concrete step felt cold under his ass, but Jeff needed a moment to sit and recover after hologram Pierce nearly gave him a heart attack. “Only at Greendale,” he said, shaking his head. He curled the paper in his hands into a cylinder, making his friends’ signatures disappear from sight. Jeff was wrong about Greendale. It _had_ changed. He just had to make sure it was in the right direction.

* * *

Annie was walking the long way back to work after another unsuccessful meeting, her rolling suitcase bumping into her heels, when she got the call from Abed. A grin immediately spread across her face as he rattled off the words ‘Jeff’ and ‘Save Greendale’ (and some excited references to The Breakfast Club soundtrack). Annie felt something claw its way up through her body that had been long dormant. _Hope_.

* * *

It looked as though nothing had changed at Greendale. Jeff didn’t know whether that was good or bad. He made his way down the hall, pausing to look at the near empty trophy cabinet where an article for the debate team hung. He smiled fondly at how animated Annie appeared in the photo – and how dumbstruck he was. _Man is evil_. The smile slipped from his mouth as he remembered what he was there to do. 

* * *

Darting her eyes around the office, Annie snuck her contraband Sharpie out of her purse and drew a thick red cross through Thursday in her planner. She carefully filled the lines in with ink, waiting for a little joy to flood through her.

* * *

Jeff re-filled his glass with whiskey as the repo men got to work lifting his pretentious bookcase. He almost mustered a smile when one of them accidentally pricked their thumb on a stray nail sticking out the side. The text he received a moment later curbed that enthusiasm (‘ _Wassup loser. Ready 2 re-learn the Tango?_ ’).

* * *

Annie eyed off the bottle of pills her boss had just brought in as part of their new product line. ‘Joyvitrex’ she’d called it. Tiny, round, pink things just bursting with contentment ( _what did that feel like again?_ ). She took in a shaky breath and popped an orange-flavored gummy vitamin in her mouth, trying to recall the twelve steps she used to know off-by-heart. 

* * *

_Hey Annie! How’s…_  
Annie long time no…  
Milady…  
So guess what? I’ve completely fucked up my life and I need to talk to you but I’m too much of a stubborn asshole to call!!!! 

Groaning in frustration, Jeff deleted his latest text attempt and threw his phone at the wall, knocking his graduation certificate sideways.

* * *

Her thumb hovered over Jeff’s name in her cell. All Annie had to do was hit one button and she could speak to him. Spill her secrets about how awful her job was. Let him know she _missed_ him. 

She never made the call.

* * *

The words ‘FINAL NOTICE’ mocked Jeff from the unopened envelope in his hands. He’d ignored the emails and the phone calls from the realtor; he could ignore this too. The unrelenting nag of failure churning his gut was a little harder to shake off. Jeff shoved the envelope into a random page of his diary – of course it had to land on a Saturday.

* * *

 _When was the last time I drew a purple star in my day planner?_ Annie couldn’t even remember. Saturdays used to be covered with them. The weekdays, however, were always taken up with big red crosses, marking off the time until… something. Annie knew she was counting down to _something_. There had to be more to her career, her _life_ , than this.

* * *

“OK, great. You can pick it up around three.” Jeff hung up his phone and set it on the bench next to his glass of whiskey. Holding back a deep sigh he walked a few steps to sit in his recliner. Well, it wasn’t his anymore. It now belonged to eBay user HeresLookingAtYouBid, who’d probably have it all scratched up in less than a day. 

Jeff ran his hand across the smooth leather of the armrest. “We had some good times you and I,” he said. “And I know you’ll keep our secret about all those Jersey Shore marathons we watched together. But a guy has to eat. And pay the bills… And stop talking to inanimate objects.”

Moving his leg, Jeff noticed something tucked between the cushion and the side of the chair. He grabbed the small rectangle to have a look, feeling his stomach dip when he saw that it was a slightly damaged business card. Jeff was about to crumple it up when he reconsidered and instead smoothed out the creases before storing it in his wallet. 

* * *

Abed glanced up from the cartoons on TV when Troy returned from the kitchen and sat on the chair next to him. “I thought you were getting breakfast?”

“I tried to but Annie was making me sad,” replied Troy. “She’s sitting on the floor in her pajamas eating Flintstones vitamins out of the jar. And when I asked her what she was doing today she just said, ‘living the dream’.” His voice wavered in concern. “I just want our Annie back.”

Switching off the television, Abed picked up his laptop from the coffee table and cracked his knuckles, ready to get to work. “Annie needs a distraction. And I know just the thing.”

“Dude, no,” Troy hissed as his roommate opened Facebook to sign up for a new account. “You can’t mess with her again.”

“Then what should we do?” he frowned. “Eat pints of ice cream? Take a surprise trip to Vegas?”

“Neither,” said Troy, before screwing up his nose. “Or maybe both? I don’t know man, but I do know that we shouldn’t make her day worse by telling her those vitamins have been there since before we moved in.”

* * *

 _My kingdom for a client_ , Jeff thought as he failed the same level of Candy Crush he’d been playing for the past hour. _Or more like ‘my crapheap of an office for an actual human being to walk through the door’_. He may be a ‘hero-for-hire’ but he’d be willing to turn a blind eye if Walter White, Tony Soprano or even a jerk in a terrible velour tracksuit came knocking. Hell, he’d even settle for Chang right now. Or was it Kevin? Whatever. Like he was worth anyone’s time. Even fake candy was kicking his ass. 

* * *

When her boss informed her that a customer might be suing FUTURZA, Jeff’s name was on the tip of Annie’s tongue before her embarrassment kept her silent. The last thing Jeff needed was for her to drag him into the company’s mess (he doesn’t need to see that her smile doesn’t reach her eyes anymore either, he’s always been far too perceptive about that). Jeff’s still fighting the good fight and Annie’s proud of him.

* * *

“Did you need me to get you another one, dude?”

Jeff looked up from his phone to where the high-school kid in a green apron was gesturing at his now melted cup of frozen yogurt. 

“Why the hell not,” Jeff sighed, scrounging around in his pocket for some change. “Just make it a non-fat strawberry one this time. Small.”

“Toasted marshmallow’s, like, the best. You sure you don’t want the same?”

“I’m sure I, like, don’t.”

The teenager frowned. “Then why’d you order it in the first place if you weren’t gonna eat it? There’s starving people out there in, like, Canada and stuff who’d kill for some wicked ‘mallow fro-yo.”

“I didn’t ask to ride shotgun on your bogus journey, Keanu Reeves,” Jeff retorted, shoving some bills into the kid’s hand. “But I’ll be sure to remember that next time there’s a maple shortage.”

“Whatever, man,” faux-Reeves scoffed, walking away. “Don’t get your beard in a twist.”

Jeff scrubbed a hand over his chin where he’d begun to let his normally artfully shaved stubble run wild. And now he was being a dick to people who didn’t deserve it. _It’s the darkest timeline_ , a voice echoed in his mind. “Shut up, Abed,” he muttered to himself, before refocusing on his game of Candy Crush. He was getting pretty good at it. At least something in his life was going right.

* * *

“You can’t use that here.”

Annie glanced in confusion at the fountain pen she was holding before looking up at her boss. “I can’t?”

“We’re only using company-based stationery from now on,” she explained, taking a handful of blue and white plastic pens out of her shirt pocket and placing them on the desk. “Like our motto says – you can always rely on FUTURZA. Plus I literally have two thousand of these goddamn things and I need to get rid of them,” she sighed, shuffling back to her office.

Carefully laying her fountain pen back in its box, Annie picked up the plastic replacement and put tip to paper – where nothing happened. She scribbled out a few more blank lines before throwing it in the trash. “Oh yeah, totally reliable,” she muttered just as her stomach gurgled. She’d missed lunch again. She’d been doing that a lot lately.

* * *

Jeff sent out another text to Annie, letting her know that he couldn’t catch up that weekend (how many in a row was that now? He’d lost count). It was the usual deal; he was so busy, blah blah blah. All lies of course. Jeff was amazed when someone suddenly wandered into his office, but his shoulders slumped when they ended up asking him for directions to the nearest restroom in the mall.

Hearing her cell beep, Annie read the text from Jeff. She was disappointed but she couldn’t feel too down about it – she was just about to send him a similar message. Work was great but she was super busy, yadda yadda. But in reality she’d been staring at the stack of business cards she’d finally received, feeling hot tears stinging her eyes as she re-read the font: _Andie Edisun – FUTURZA rep_.

* * *

_Hey gotta bail again sry. Work stuff u no the drill. Hope ur good. J_

* * *

_Sorry for the cancelation text (again) but work’s still kicking my butt! We’ll catch up soon though. We haven’t seen our favorite Yogurtsburgh “dude” in ages! A x_

* * *

_To: annieedison@FUTURZA.com  
I know it’s late notice but I won’t be able to make lunch this Saturday. Got a few new clients and I need to hit the books and do some research. Yes I’m actually studying. Did you not see the pigs flying outside your window? Didn’t think you were that adverse to bacon ;)_

* * *

_To: jwinger@law.com  
Hey Jeff! Sorry to cancel on you but I’ve got a big meeting Monday and I kind of need the whole weekend to plan for it. You know what I’m like! But don’t worry; I’m taking care of myself. We’ll totally reschedule for another time OK! Annie x_

* * *

“Earth to Jeff?” Annie waited a few seconds for him to respond. “Mars to Jeff?” she tried, giving his shoulder a light nudge.

Jeff shook his head with a start. “Sorry what?”

“I was just asking you if you wanted popcorn for the movie but you were kind of busy having a staring competition with the wall.”

“Uh, no, no popcorn for me thanks.” He patted his stomach. “Gotta keep this body in peak condition,” he attempted to joke.

Annie gazed at her friend, his face appearing slightly gaunt in the harsh light of the candy bar. “I don’t know, I think you could stand to put on a few pounds.” She thought back a few moments to the ticket booth where his credit card was declined. “My shout? I mean, I always eat the whole damn thing before the movie actually starts anyway, so we’re better off with two,” she added casually, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“I’m fine, Annie,” he replied with a strained smile.

She brushed his arm gently. “Are you sure?”

Jeff looked her in the eyes. What he wanted to say was _I’m the opposite of fine. My business is sending me broke, I’m feeling the life being drained out of me every second I’m in my office and the shame is slowly wrapping its hands around my neck and choking me until I can’t breathe._

But instead he brightened his smile and winked at her. “Completely sure. Now are you dragging me to see a terrible rom-com or not? Because I _already_ have ten jokes lined up about Channing Tatum and they’re only just about his name.”

* * *

“Are you OK?” Jeff asked Annie. “You’ve turned your yogurt into soup.”

Pausing mid-stir, Annie glanced down at her cup. “Whoops, silly me,” she said, trying to laugh it off. “My mind must have wandered off.”

“That boring to talk to am I?” he joked.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything,” she teased, but the spark didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Hey,” Jeff said softly, reaching out his hand to cover hers. “You sure you’re OK?”

Annie swallowed roughly. What she really wanted to say was _no I’m not OK. My job is kind of suss, I’m not sure I’m following the right career path and I keep having this recurring nightmare about being lost in a maze and being chased by pill-popping robots._

But instead she plastered on what she hoped was a reassuring smile and told him she was fine. There was no need to worry him further. 

* * *

“So do you think you can help me?”

Jeff stared at the middle-aged man in the beige velour tracksuit sitting across from him at his desk. “You want me to help you blackmail your own father into giving _you_ all of his possessions, instead of your brother, before you shunt your old man off to a retirement home?”

The man smirked, showing off his nicotine-stained teeth. “That’s about the gist of it, yeah.”

“I… don’t really deal in cases like that,” Jeff replied. 

“Sure you do,” the man needled. “It’s just like your ad says, I’m a good person and I’m being denied my rights.”

“The right to screw your family over?”

“My dad’s an asshole, alright? Trust me when I say that he deserves it.” He folded his arms. “And I deserve his flatscreen TV.”

Jeff rubbed a hand across his face, letting out a long exhale. “Look, I’m an expert in deadbeat dads, believe me. But this isn’t the kind of case I want to be a part of right now, so I suggest you look up another lawyer.”

Shaking his head in annoyance, the man stood up abruptly. “It’s your loss, buddy. There coulda been some nice moolah involved.” He made for the door. “I’ll just leave you to your busy workday,” he added snidely before exiting the office.

Flipping open his planner, Jeff clenched his jaw tightly. When a creep in out-dated velour was your only potential client in two days, there was something wrong with your life. Thank God he had plans for Saturday. At least there was a bright spot amongst all the bullshit.

* * *

The small staff room was cramped even though there was only the boss and four employees, including Annie, in attendance. It was her first important meeting since starting with the company and she was devouring the information pamphlet they’d been given. While the boss was speaking about potential sales figures, Annie felt her heart jolt as she re-read a paragraph on page three. 

Her boss looked surprised when she noticed a hand slowly being raised. “Edison? You have a question?”

“Um, yeah just a small one,” Annie said, shifting in her chair uncertainly. “It says here that we’re going to market Relaxorex to teenagers?”

“Exactly,” her boss grinned. “All their exams, the failed relationship dramas, the _acne_. Oh lord, the delicious stress of teen acne. They’ll be _begging_ to take the stuff.” 

Annie worried her bottom lip. “Won’t that be kind of bad, though?” she said hesitantly. “I mean from the looks of things the dosage is pretty high, and young kids are so vulnerable at that age, and naïve and… prone to accidental glass breakage at parties.” Her boss raised an eyebrow. “Or something less specific,” she rushed. “Should the company really push that?”

The other workers murmured to one another as their boss cleared her throat. “Edison, I get you’re new and keen to chip in, but we’ve been in this game for a while now and we know how to move our chess pieces to pass go and collect $200. You feel me?”

“… Yes?”

“Great. Now let’s move on so we can get out of here in time for lunch.”

Annie sank back into her swivel chair and tried to ignore the sense of defeat and guilt threatening to seep through her. _You can’t change the world in a day_ , she reminded herself. _There’ll always be a next time_. Annie opened up her diary to jot down the names of the hospitals her boss was rattling off, feeling some of her edginess fade when she saw the purple asterisk at the end of the week. She’d have to remember to tell Jeff about that Monopoly line.

* * *

A light breeze ruffled through Jeff’s hair as he sat at the picnic bench facing out towards the park. Annie perched next to him, leaning her elbows back on the table and lifting her head towards the sun to enjoy the warmth.

“I swear I’ve had your ad jingle stuck in my head for a week now,” said Annie, her eyes closed. “You and Abed did a good job.”

“It’s still pretty weird seeing myself on TV,” Jeff replied, his face suddenly clouding. “Although I’m surprised I‘ve seen myself at all considering they’re playing it at ass o’clock in the morning when no one’s watching.”

Annie dipped her head down to look at him. “I’m sure people are watching,” she reassured him. “I mean you told me you’ve had some interest, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, clearing his throat.

“And it’s only early days anyway,” she continued, scuffing her shoes against the grass. “Soon your phone’s going to be ringing off the hook and then you’ll be far too busy to hang out with the likes of me,” she teased.

“I’m being charitable just hanging out with you now.” He smirked as she lightly kicked his leg. “Who knows, you might be the one who starts cancelling now you’re out in the big bad working world. Which reminds me, you never told me how your first week of training went.”

“It went pretty well,” she smiled. “Everyone seems nice enough and the company’s got some interesting products. Ooh, and I want to get a batch of these printed when I’m more settled.” She dug a business card sample out of her pocket and showed him.

“Annie Edison – FUTURZA representative,” he read aloud. “It sounds like a new space-age land at Disneyworld.”

She laughed. “The name’s a bit in your face, I know. And it always looks like you’re being yelled at,” she mused. “But I think I can do good work there. Or at least I hope I can.”

“Of course you will,” said Jeff, incredulous that she doubted herself. “You’re the real superhero around here.” He deftly pocketed the card. “I’m going to keep this and you can autograph it when you’re a millionaire.”

They shared a smile. “Maybe I should invest in a Lycra outfit too?” Annie said, giggling at the appreciative look that formed on Jeff’s face.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

* * *

While the rest of the group were at the study table eating the graduation cake Shirley had baked, Jeff gently grabbed Annie’s arm and led her over to the sofas. Once they were seated he took a long black velvet box out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Happy graduation,” he smiled.

She beamed at him, gliding her fingers over the soft material. “Jeff you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Says the woman who bought me an office-warming present.” He nudged her arm. “Open it up already. And do it quick because I only bought the others vouchers for Senor Kevin’s…”

Lifting open the lid, Annie let out a small gasp when she discovered the silver fountain pen inside. “It’s the one we saw in the shop a few weeks ago,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. “Jeff it costs way too much, I can’t accept this.” Annie tried to pass it back to him, but he just pressed it more firmly into her hands.

“You can and you will,” he smiled. “Besides, I don’t think they’ll give me a return on something that’s been engraved.”

Annie picked up the pen and turned it over, snorting when she saw the message. ‘ _In case of emergency: blame a ghost_ ’. “You think you’re so witty don’t you?” she chided, her eyes sparkling.

“Only all the time.”

“I love it. Thank you, Jeff,” she said, leaning across to press a lingering kiss against his cheek.

He smiled at her affectionately as she stored the pen back in its box. “So what’s next for Greendale’s newest graduate?”

“I have some job interviews next week.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll have to work my way up to the top of course, but there’s one position that sounds kind of promising.”

“You’ll be running the place in no time, I’m sure.”

They watched their friends laughing together while Troy and Abed tried to make up a rap about the school (“What rhymes with butt flag?” asked Troy).

Annie turned back to Jeff. “Are we still on for this Saturday?”

“Duh-doy.”

* * *

Shirley stirred a sugar into her coffee, smiling at Jeff across the café table. “What’s in the fancy box you’ve got there?” 

“A tiny replica of Gwyneth Paltrow’s head,” said Jeff, sliding the black velvet box away from sight and onto his lap. “Don’t tell the cops.”

“So it’s not an expensive gift for a certain brunette friend who will be graduating next week then, hmm?” she said, schooling her features into an innocent look.

Jeff sighed, his coffee mug halfway to his lips. “You took a peek when I was ordering the drinks didn’t you?”

“Maybe just a teensy one,” she replied. “But I blame you entirely for leaving it lying around when you know how inquisitive I am.”

“You just keep telling yourself that, Snoopy,” he said, fiddling with the present in his hands. “Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked uncertainly.

“Of course she will, pumpkin,” said Shirley, taking a sip of her drink. “You’d just better pray to Jesus that no one steals it from her,” she added darkly. “God forbid anyone messes around with that girl’s stationery.”

Opening up the box, Jeff scrutinized the silver fountain pen inside. “Maybe I should have got it engraved?”

“Maybe you should save that for the wedding bands,” Shirley mumbled under her breath.

“What?”

“ _Nothing_!” she cooed. “Now tell me more about this commercial you want to film.”

* * *

“Can I smell pancakes or am I having a stroke?”

Annie smiled as Troy shuffled into the kitchen in his pajamas before leaping up to sit on the bench. “Lucky for you you’re not dying,” she said, adjusting the heat on the cooktop. “Although I always thought it was burnt toast you smelt before a stroke?”

Troy shrugged. “When I lived with Pierce he used to say everything was a sign of a stroke. Toast, pancakes, people asking him for a pay rise…” He peered over her shoulder. “Dude, you made them into shapes too?” he grinned. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly, pushing a full plate towards him. “Just being a good housemate.”

Troy ripped a star in half, stuffing it into his mouth. “Wait a minute,” he said, suddenly alarmed, “you’re not still messaging that pole vaulter guy on Facebook are you?”

“Brent Underjaw? No, I haven’t heard from him in a few months. Why?”

“… No reason,” Troy replied, silently relieved Abed had given up that charade. “It’s just pancakes usually means you’re really happy about something.”

“I’m happy you’re enjoying your breakfast,” Annie stated, checking her watch. “It’s after nine. Aren’t you and Abed usually watching Saturday morning cartoons by now?” she asked, trying to shoo him away with her spatula.

Realization lit up Troy’s face. “ _Right_ , it’s _Saturday_ ,” he said, grabbing his plate to take into the living room. “Say hi to Jeff for me,” Troy teased, grinning at the hint of red staining her cheeks.

* * *

The mirror in his office bathroom was already unflattering enough, but the red and black spandex superhero outfit _really_ clung to Jeff’s body in all the wrong places. _Hi, I’m Jeff Winger_ , he thought, staring at his reflection. _When I’m not busy scrounging around for new cases I like to dress up as a reject from The Incredibles_. He froze when he heard a knock on the door.

“Jeff?” Annie’s voice sang out. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah, I’ll just be a sec!” he hastily replied, reaching around to drag down the zip at the back of his neck. “Come on you son of a bitch,” he muttered, panicking when it wouldn’t budge.

“Everything cool in there?” Annie asked in concern.

“It’s the coolest,” he gritted out through his teeth. He yanked down on the zip a few more times before finally admitting defeat. Bowing his head, Jeff swung open the bathroom door. “I may need your help with something,” he sighed.

Annie bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. “You don’t say.” He gave her a withering glare but it only made her more amused. “I know you’re trying to be intimidating right now, but you’re wearing your underwear on the outside and it’s very distracting.”

Jeff took in a slow breath and turned around so his back was towards her. “Can you help unzip me please?”

“Sure thing, Superman.” She reached up and made quick work of the task, tugging out a bit of material that had become pinched in the metal teeth. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re willingly wearing Lycra at work or do I have to guess?”

“I had an idea for a TV commercial,” he explained, ducking into the bathroom to put his clothes back on.

“And you’re going method by wearing the outfit before you actually start filming anything?”

“That’s why Daniel Day Lewis turned down Batman. He couldn’t become one with the costume.” Jeff yanked his leg out of the Lycra and picked his jeans up off the floor. “He was also probably immune to sales at costume stores. It was either this or ‘Jeff Winger, Banana at Law’.”

Annie smiled, noticing Jeff’s unopened diary on his desk. “Do you need to drum up more business?”

He slipped an arm through a shirtsleeve, feeling a tinge of incompetence at her concerned tone. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got a plenty of clients on the books,” he lied. “But I could always use more exposure.”

“Well there’s certainly a lot of that happening with your outfit.”

Jeff frowned as he emerged from the bathroom a few moments later. “Thanks, that’s really helping,” he said dryly, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m only messing with you,” she gently replied, setting down her bag on the floor. “I think a commercial might be fun. You could really get your message across.”

“That’s the plan.” He pulled out a spiral notepad where he’d scribbled down some ideas and slid it over to her. “What do you think?”

Annie scanned through his dot points, raising an eyebrow midway through. “Have a kickass fight with King Kong?”

“Or something a little less likely to get me sued,” he shrugged. “I’m trying to find clients, not make myself into one.”

“You should have a chat to Abed,” she suggested. “He’ll be looking for film projects once we graduate.”

“Already on my ideas list,” he said, tapping the bottom of his page of notes.

“Noooo,” she slowly drew out in amusement. “That one says ‘point heroically or shoot finger guns when phone number flashes on screen’.”

“… I’m also very method about being a douche.”

* * *

Gummy bears scattered all over the bench as Annie accidentally sneezed while she was scooping toppings over her frozen yogurt. 

“You’re going to get us banned from Yogurtsburgh if you keep making trouble,” Jeff teased, helping her to gather up the candy with some napkins. “That’s like getting thrown out of Chuck E. Cheese.”

“I think I’m getting a cold,” she pouted, heaping sprinkles on top of her dessert. 

Jeff paid for their food and led them to a quiet table. “Of course you are, it’s your usual ‘I’m studying too hard so my body’s going to protest and shut down’ cold.”

She frowned. “My body doesn’t do that,” she objected.

“Oh really?” he challenged. “Remember the week before one of our Anthropology exams when we all thought you’d caught the plague?”

“I wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“You looked like an extra for The Walking Dead.”

Annie mustered up a half-hearted glare. “Just let me eat my yogurt before my tastebuds die please.”

“I don’t know how they’re not already dead,” he replied, digging his spoon into his cup. “You pick the worst flavors.”

“Cotton candy isn’t the worst,” she said, biting into a gummy bear.

He shook his head. “No, I’d probably give that title to the toasted marshmallow one you got last week.”

“Well I’m sorry we can’t all have boring no-fat no-flavor ones like you,” she replied, quickly rummaging around in her purse for a Kleenex as she sneezed four times in a row. “One day I’m going to make you try one and you’re going to love it.”

“Sure,” he said, resting an elbow on the table, “just as soon as you take a break from studying too hard.”

“It’s my final semester, Jeff,” she replied, as if he’d just told her to stop breathing. “If I don’t put in 110% now then I’ll never graduate and get a job. Hospital Administration isn’t just some mindless pen-pushing thing you know.”

“Annie, you could put in 0% and still come out top of the class.” He smiled at her before she could argue. “But I know that’s not in your nature. Just promise me you won’t run yourself too ragged, OK?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, _sir_ ,” she teased.

“Ugh,” Jeff winced, “let’s not re-live that nightmare.”

* * *

Growling in frustration, Jeff threw his hammer to the ground and slumped back into the wooden chair. “This is stupid. Why is this thing in so many parts? Is it the world’s lamest horcrux? Am I meant to hide pieces of my dying soul inside?”

“Easy there with the tools, Thor,” said Annie, looking up from the instruction pamphlet. “You’re the one who didn’t want to pay for someone to put the bookcase together for you, remember?”

“Because I was trying to sound impressive in front of the obnoxious IKEA man-child,” he countered, as if it was obvious.

“I still don’t understand your problem with him.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows. “He kept calling me sir, Annie… _Sir_.”

She put the pamphlet on her lap and picked up her cup of frozen yogurt they’d bought on the way back to Jeff’s office. “You’d rather he called you m’am?” she asked innocently, taking a bite of the cheesecake-flavored treat.

“He had a tone,” he grumbled, picking up his own low-fat vanilla yogurt. “Like he was addressing his slightly deaf, slightly amnesiac grandfather.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” she said, shaking her head affectionately.

“My half a bookshelf and I are well aware.” He poked at his food with the plastic spoon.

“OK, enough with the moping,” Annie declared, putting down her cup and retrieving the discarded hammer. “Are you ‘Jeff Winger at law’ or ‘Jeff Winger drew the short straw’?”

He cracked a smile. “Fine. You win, Dr Seuss. Let’s build this ostentatious piece of junk.” 

With a decisive nod, Annie handed him the instruction booklet. “Your turn to drive.”

Jeff felt a surge of tenderness overcome him as Annie started hammering away at a corner, a strand of hair falling into her eyes. “We should keep doing this,” he blurted out.

“What? Put together furniture until we want to murder each other?” she replied with a smirk, remaining focused on the job.

“No I mean hang out, or whatever,” he shrugged. “Once this place is open and you guys go back to Greendale it’ll be harder to catch up so, y’know, we should make sure that we try.”

Kneeling back, Annie smiled softly at him. “I like that idea. We could make it a Saturday thing whenever we’re free,” she suggested. 

“Cool,” he nodded.

“Cool, cool, cool,” she said, sharing a laugh with him. “Now read me the next part would you? I seem to have a million more nails than what I actually need.”

Jeff turned the paper around in his hands, trying to make sense of it. “Ugh, I don’t know. Just nail them anywhere. We’ll DIY it – dumbass it yourself.”

* * *

“I think we should christen your new office.”

One hand flew straight to Annie’s face in embarrassment as soon as the words left her mouth – the other hand whacked Jeff’s arm as he let out a throaty chuckle.

“Should we now?” he smirked.

“Not like _that_ ,” she accused, hiding her own smile. “I just meant that we should honor the occasion. It’s not every day you start up your own law firm.”

“Somehow I don’t think we can swing a bottle of champagne against this ship’s bow. It’s not the Titanic.” Jeff folded his arms and leant against the doorframe, worry suddenly creasing his forehead. “… Shit, I hope it doesn’t turn out to be the Titanic,” he muttered.

“Hey, don’t get all negative on me now, mister,” said Annie, wandering around the empty office space. “This is your new adventure. You need to embrace it.”

“I feel like you should be twirling around on a mountain top while you deliver me this pep talk,” he replied, sighing in feigned annoyance when she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the middle of the room.

“Just be quiet for one second and look over there would you?” said Annie, pointing to the back left-hand corner. “That’s the perfect place for a desk. And there,” she added, nodding to another wall, “is just the right spot for a pretentious looking bookcase.”

He glanced down at her. “Pretentious huh?”

She waved her hand around indifferently. “Every lawyer needs one.”

“Well you’ll have to come with me and help pick it out. I only know how to buy modest, tasteful furniture.”

Annie snorted. “Jeff, you have a recliner in your apartment that cost more than a small country. I’m scared to go near it in case I accidentally damage it and have to sell a kidney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll have to harvest _all_ your organs to make repayments.” Jeff glanced back at the parcel Annie had set down by the door when they first arrived. “So do I get to find out what the mysterious wrapped package is yet that you’ve been carting around?”

Grinning, Annie took a few steps back to pick it up before handing it to Jeff. “Happy office-warming!” she exclaimed.

Jeff tore at the brown paper, giving her an amused smile when he realized what it was. “How did you get this?” he asked, holding up his newly framed graduation certificate.

“I _may_ have stolen it from your study when we all came around for celebratory drinks last week,” she replied. “You shouldn’t hide it away – it needs to be displayed with pride.”

“Yes, because nothing screams ‘take me seriously’ like a document with an anus emblem on it.” He dodged away from another shoulder swatting. “I do appreciate the thought, though. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Noticing a hook already attached to the wall in front of them, Jeff felt around for the string on the back of the frame and hung it up. He smirked when Annie couldn’t help herself and reached over to make it less lopsided.

“There,” she proudly declared. “You’re ready for business.”

“Give or take some furniture, some clients… And possibly some confidence, although if you question me on that I will vehemently deny it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tell me again that this is a good idea?”

Linking her arm through his, Annie gave him a warm smile. “It’s the greatest idea. Here’s to new beginnings,” she cheered, throwing her other arm out in front of her.

“… Did you just mime breaking a champagne bottle against the wall?”

“Shut up and help christen your office, Jeff.”

Ignoring the impish look on Annie’s face, Jeff rolled his eyes and pretended to swing a bottle forward. “To new beginnings,” he echoed.


End file.
